


One For The Team

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Comment Fic 2016 [136]
Category: Stargate SG-1, The Invisible Man (TV 2000)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9112108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Invisible Man, Darien Fawkes,There's no such thing as sanity / And that's the sanest fact(Dire Straits)"There's a new member of the team.





	

_There’s no such thing as sanity, and that’s the sanest fact. Also, arguing with yourself is a sure sign of insanity._

This Darien told himself as he and Bobby stood outside of The Official’s office, eavesdropping shamelessly.

Bobby had been working up the nerve to approach The Official about a pay raise when Eberts had appeared, with a uniformed military officer and Claire in tow. He’d bustled them into the office and shut the door in Bobby’s face.

Darien was well-versed in the art of eavesdropping, had learned to identify voices through a door. There was The Official, greeting his guest with a measure of wariness. There was Eberts, being as unctuous as ever. There was Claire, being sweet.

And there was the officer. Darien didn’t catch her first name, just her last name: Satterfield. Air Force. Here to join the Agency.

The Official didn’t like the sound of that.

Satterfield was firm about her place with the Agency. She mentioned access to better weapons and defense technology, advanced medical technology, and the clincher: more funding.

The Official was sold.

And then Satterfield said something about experimenting. On Darien. No, not experimenting. Working with. Improving. Possibly replicating. But not that kind of replicating. She didn’t mean to sound like a monster. She wasn’t a monster. She had the necessary expertise to assist Claire with some new avenues of research, if not the paper qualifications. Well, she had paper qualifications, but The Official and Ebert wouldn’t be allowed to see those until The Official signed an NDA.

She was talking to herself. She was arguing with herself, and also arguing back.

No way was Darien going to let her anywhere near his head or his gland or his, well, anything. Even if she was kinda cute, in that tiny Asian doll kind of way that Claire frequently reminded him was racist. She had shiny black hair and gleaming brown skin and looked pretty good under that uniform -

The door opened, and Eberts stood there, looking deeply unamused.

“Come in,” he said, “and meet your new teammate.”

Bobby had had a lot of unpleasant things to say the first time Eberts said those words to him about Darien, and even more unpleasant things to say when Alex showed up. Yet another teammate was probably going to be the death of Bobby’s unpleasant vocabulary.

But Darien straightened up and adopted an innocent expression, hands in his pockets, and sauntered into the office. Bobby slunk after him, doing his best to look intimidating. He was barely taller than Satterfield.

“Gentlemen,” The Official said, “this is Lieutenant Sharon Satterfield of the United States Air Force, and she’s here to join our team. Sign these non-disclosure agreements and we can talk further.”

Eberts presented Darien with what could easily have been called a phone book. It had colored tabs sticking out of it so he knew where to initial and sign. Bobby began flipping through his copy.

He raised his eyebrows at The Official. “National Security Act? Never heard of it.”

“Section 11-C-9,” Satterfield said helpfully.

Darien raised his eyebrows. Was she some kind of nerd, then? The Air Force had a lot of nerds, right? The Marines were the tough ones. The Air Force was nerds. Chair Force, right? Sat around being eggheads.

Eberts handed Darien a pen, and he flipped to the first tab. The Official, he noticed, was already signing a similar document, and Eberts was doing the same.

“I already signed mine,” Claire said when Darien cast her a look. “And of course Alex has signed hers as well.” Claire smiled at Satterfield, and Darien had the notion that there was going to be a lot more girl talk at the office than he could handle.

Satterfield seemed completely content to wait in silence, posture textbook perfect, while everyone signed the necessary paperwork. Once everyone had signed - Darien did without reading, because he knew he belonged to the Agency, even if he was no longer dependent on them for sanity and safety - Satterfield gathered all the paperwork into an envelope and tucked it into a little leather briefcase.

“So, why all the killing trees and other fuss?” Darien tucked his hands back into his pockets and leaned against the filing cabinet.

“I’m not just a lieutenant from the Air Force,” Satterfield said. “I’m an agent from one of Earth’s allies, called The Tok’ra, and I’m here to help Thellas understand more about Earth’s culture and technology and facilitate further technological exchanges between our two races.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re Korean, right? Ethnically?”

Satterfield bowed her head, which Darien took as an acknowledgment of Bobby’s superior race identification skills before she lifted her chin and her eyes flared golden.

“What the -?” Darien straightened up reflexively.

“Hello. I am Thellas,” Satterfield said, only it wasn’t her voice, it was her voice multiplied by a hundred, like the voices of the demonically possessed Darien had heard in horror movies.

Bobby drew his gun and trained it on her in a blink.

“I mean you no harm,” Satterfield continued. “I mean no cause for alarm. I am the Tok’ra symbiote who Sharon hosts in her body.”

Suddenly Darien didn’t feel quite so bad about his quicksilver gland. “You mean you’re another - another _person_ in there?”

“Yes,” said Thellas, still in that many-timbred voice. “I am from an advanced alien race allied with the humans of this planet. Sharon was kind enough to agree to be my host in exchange for my healing her of mortal wounds she received while battling against our mutual enemy on an alien planet.”

“Alien planet?” Bobby echoed. “People say I’m whacked, but this chick is super whacked, for reals.” He darted looks at The Official and Claire. Claire looked completely calm. The Official looked like he was trying not to look weirded out. Eberts looked ready to puke.

“I am, by profession, a medical doctor, as well as a physicist and an engineer,” Thellas said. “Sharon is my fifth in a line of hosts. I am several centuries old, by your reckoning of time.”

Darien managed a smile. “You’re looking pretty good for a gal your age.” Holy crap, she was an alien. An actual alien. Darien had learned to suspend his disbelief about a whole lot of scifi stuff, but aliens had never been part of the deal.

“Sharon does have a pleasant visage,” Thellas agreed. “When I heard of your project, using a naturally-occurring hormone to create perceived invisibility, I was intrigued. Such technology would be very useful in our battle against the Goa’uld. I believe with my experience and expertise, I can also provide you with useful tools to aid you in your mission of preserving the liberty of the people of this nation.”

Bobby swallowed hard and didn’t lower his gun. “Oh yeah? What kind of useful tools?”

Thellas raised her right hand, and Darien wondered how he’d missed the bling she was wearing, a big golden glove thing that covered her fingertips and had a red jewel at the palm and also extended further up her wrist and sleeve. “Go ahead, Agent Hobbes. Fire your weapon at me.”

Eberts shouted, “No!” but Bobby fired.

The bullet didn’t strike. There was a flare of golden light, and the bullet froze midair for a second before it dropped to the floor.

“A personal shield,” Thellas said. “Currently only operational by someone who is or was host to a symbiote like myself or a parasite like the goa’uld, but I am interested in making these useable by regular humans.”

Darien blinked rapidly, willing his heartbeat to slow, willing his adrenaline to slow so he didn’t bleed quicksilver from every pore in sheer panic. “That’s pretty nifty,” he said.

The Official looked delighted. Eberts also looked intrigued.

Claire beamed at Thellas like she wasn’t totally creeped out. “I am very excited for the scientific advancements we can make with Thellas’s help.”

Thellas bowed her head for a second. When she looked up, she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Thellas is a lot more useful than me on the science side.” And she sounded normal again. “But I have a lot of combat experience and can be useful for investigations and other paramilitary functions. I graduated from The Academy in Operations Research with a minor in Arabic.”

Darien cleared his throat. “So you and Thellas just - share the body? Switch back and forth when you do that head bowing thing?”

Satterfield said, “Yes, Thellas and I share control. We take turns, depending on how our expertise is needed, and we share recreational time fifty-fifty.”

“And Thellas always sounds like - that?”

“He doesn’t have to,” Satterfield said. “It makes it easier for people to know who they’re talking to, though. If we were out in public - like, say, Thellas wanted to go to a movie or try a new restaurant or something, he can sound human so as to blend in.”

Bobby, who’d picked up his spent bullet and was staring at it in bafflement, paused. “I’m sorry, did you say _he?_ ”

“Symbiotes are a-gender,” Claire explained eagerly. “Some align permanently with a specific gender for hosts, others do not, but it takes time to adjust when one switches genders as one switches hosts. Thellas’s most recent host was male, so.”

“So in a few decades, Thellas will probably identify as female in conversation and in thoughts.” Satterfield smiled gently. “I know. Weird. But you can turn invisible, right? So we’re weird all around.”

Bobby drew himself up to his full height. “I am not weird, I am a law enforcement professional. Bobby Hobbes is not weird.”

“Bobby Hobbes talks about himself in the third person,” Satterfield pointed out.

Before Bobby could protest further, The Official stood up. “Welcome to The Agency, Lieutenant Satterfield. We’re very glad to have you. And Thellas.”

When Satterfield smiled, she was very pretty indeed. And then she bowed her head and her eyes flared golden and Thellas said, “Thank you. We are very glad to be here and to work with you. And to learn more about the cultures on this planet.”

The strange tension that had blanketed the room broke like a bursting water balloon, and Darien shook himself out.

“Come along,” Claire said. “I’ll show you the lab and your office.”

“Office?” Bobby echoed. “She gets her own office? But I -”

Okay, so this Satterfield chick arguing with herself wasn’t per se a sign of insanity, but her letting an alien live in her head was definitely a sign of insanity, and Darien needed to know more about her before she was allowed anywhere near him with needles or scalpels or any other medical or scientific equipment.

“So, Satterfield.” Darien trotted after her and Claire.

“Please, call me Sharon.”

“Sharon. Have you found a place to stay yet?”

“Actually, no. My gear is still just by the front door. They beamed me straight here from the Mountain.”

“Beamed?” Darien echoed. “Like _Beam me up, Scotty?_ ”

Sharon laughed. “Kind of, yes.”

“So, aliens are real. Is Area 51 a real thing?”

“Absolutely. Mostly it’s a boring research lab. The Mountain is Area 52.”

“And little green men?”

“Grey, actually. But yes. Technologically advanced allies. The source of the beaming tech, actually.” They passed by the front door where another Air Force officer was waiting.

“Lieutenant?” he asked.

“Major Davis.” Sharon handed over her briefcase. “Everything’s signed and squared away.”

“Good luck, Lieutenant.” Major Davis nodded and let himself out of the building.

Sharon went to scoop up her military issue duffel bag, but Darien got it for her. Claire shot him a look, and he rolled his eyes. He wasn’t hitting on Sharon. He just wanted to get to know her.

“Wow,” he said. “Usually everyone’s so need-to-know about everything.”

“You signed an NDA. You break confidentiality, they execute you for treason.” Sharon shrugged.

Darien paused. “Execute?”

“My lab is this way,” Claire said. “I’ve made space for you so you can have a desk of your own. IT should be by with a new computer soon. I also cleared out a couple of drawers in my filing cabinet for your use as well.”

“That’s really great of you,” Sharon said. She smiled up at Darien. “So is it true - Sasquatch is real, and that’s where you got the quicksilver hormone from?”

“You know about aliens but not bigfoot?” Darien asked.

Sharon shrugged. “They don’t keep us updated on everything that’s happening Earth-side, not when we’re dealing with so many planets in the Milky Way.” Then she eyed him slyly. “Is it true that your quicksilver gland is genetically female?”

“Yes,” Darien muttered.

Sharon winked at him. “Maybe we have more in common than you realize.” She followed Claire around the lab, was introduced to Claire’s pets and lab animals, and then shown to her office. Ostensibly the space in the lab was for Thellas, but the other office - right beside Alex’s - was for Sharon herself.

Ever since Kevin had shown up in Darien’s cell after that stupid burglary gone wrong, Darien had been sure his life couldn’t get any more insane. Quicksilver glands. Invisibility. Other genetically engineered and altered humans. Sasquatch. And now...aliens.

He wondered why he kept searching for sanity when he knew it was nowhere to be found.

At least he had friends with him in his insanity.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Bobby said, appearing at Darien’s side while Sharon and Claire looked over Sharon’s new office.

“Well, get used to it. We got used to Alex.”

“ _You_ got used to her, maybe.”

“Think about how awesome one of those shield bracelet thingies would be, though.”

“Bobby Hobbes doesn’t need an alien shield bracelet.”

“But Bobby Hobbes wants one, doesn’t he?”

“Maybe a little bit.”


End file.
